


Strong At The Broken Places - Revised

by rubygirl29



Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Charity Auctions, Hurricane Sandy, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-05
Updated: 2013-11-05
Packaged: 2017-12-31 13:33:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1032276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubygirl29/pseuds/rubygirl29
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Evan is seriously injured in the collapse of Michael's lab, he is sent back to Earth for treatment on his broken leg. Cam is there for whatever Evan needs to recover.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strong At The Broken Places - Revised

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kamadu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kamadu/gifts).



> Written for "kamadu" with apologies for taking so long to write this for her Hurricane Sandy Relief fic. It's a rewrite and extension of my very first Cam/Evan fic. I hope you like it, hon.

  Jennifer Keller clipped an x-ray up to a lighted panel and gnawed at her lip. Her pretty face was concerned. She turned to her patient, Major Evan Lorne. He was drowsy from pain meds, and had visibly lost weight since his rescue from the rubble of Michael's collapsed research facility. Three weeks had passed, and he still wasn’t healing as well as she would have liked. Perhaps there were bacteria, either natural or manufactured by Michael, that had contaminated the compound fracture. It wouldn’t have surprised her, given what she knew of the Wraith hybrid.   Sheppard was standing at Lorne’s bedside, looking worried.

“Why isn’t he getting better? It was just a broken leg, right?”

  Keller rolled her eyes. “It was a nasty compound fracture that required surgery and debridement due to the contaminants in the wound. I’ve tried several antibiotics, but they’re not helping. I’d like to ask Mr. Woolsey to send him stateside for treatment. They have medicines and research at Stargate Command that might help. If he doesn’t get better, he could …” She bit her lip again, fell silent for a moment. “I’m sure they’ll help him.”  

John gave her a slightly stricken look as her meaning hit home. “Woolsey will send him. I promise.” Even if he had to hold a gun to his head, John thought. Lorne was more than his SiC, he was a good friend. John didn’t take losing friends lightly. He would email Cam.

  In the end, no violence was necessary. Woolsey readily agreed to the request. John, and more than a few of Atlantis’ military personnel were in the gate room when Lorne, on a gurney, went through the event horizon.   br>  
^*^*^*^*^*^*^

 

_Cheyenne Mountain Complex, SGC_

Cam Mitchell had returned with SG-1 from another planet devastated by the Ori. This was getting old, he thought as he showered and changed into fresh BDUs. He was on his way to meet with the team for a debrief with General Landry when Carolyn Lam stopped him in the hallway. She looked worried and sympathetic, which made Cam nervous. 

“What happened now?” he sighed. 

“Colonel, I have a friend of yours in the infirmary. He’s been asking to see you.”

“A friend?”

“Major Evan Lorne.”

If Cam were less strong, less controlled, he would have staggered against the wall. Instead, he just looked at her and said softly. “He wouldn’t be here if it weren’t serious.”

“It’s serious, but treatable. Three weeks ago, he was on an operation when there was an accident. Major Lorne sustained a compound fracture of his left leg. Normally, the Atlantis medical team would have taken care of it, but there were extenuating factors.”

“Extenuating?” It was never a good word to use when you worked for Stargate Command. People turned into bugs, they were burned alive by the Ori, they had the life sucked out of them by Wraith … The list was a catalog of horrors. “How extenuating?” Cam’s voice was raw. 

“He developed an infection from an unknown contaminant. I’ll be doing another surgery and trying a combination of antibiotics, but I thought you might like to see him before we put him under.”

“Yes. God, yes. Thank you.” He was off towards the infirmary before Carolyn could turn around. 

^*^*^*^*^*^*^

 

Evan didn’t know which was worse: the boredom or the pain, which had become a nagging background to every other discomfort and indignity stays in the infirmary required. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted to eat a meal, the last time he had slept without the aid of drugs, the last time the ceiling wasn’t the most interesting view overhead. 

It wasn’t even as if Cam were here. Colonel Mitchell was off-world on assignment with SG-1, he’d been informed by one of the nurses. Evan was weak, in pain, and feeling so weary that part of him wanted to float away. It was the drugs, he told himself. He couldn’t even work up the proper amount of fear that if he didn’t get better, if he didn’t heal, he might lose his leg. He knew that was survivable. He knew it might not even be the end of his military career. How would Cam feel? Cam … who was his lover as well as his friend? Evan grasped for the thread of the thought, but it eluded him as the drugs carried him away.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^

 

Cam shoved the curtain aside and stopped in his tracks. The semi-cheerful greeting he had composed on his way to the infirmary died on his lips. God … Evan…. They had waited three fucking weeks to bring him here, looking like this? He was thinner than Cam had ever seen him, drawn with pain and so pale that the smudge of his long, dark eyelashes looked like bruises on his skin. 

Cam took Evan's hand in his. Damn DADT, he had a right to offer comfort to his lover, who also happened to be his closest friend. Evan had been there when Cam had needed him the most. He had always been at Cam's side with his wry humor and ready smile, and a strong arm when Cam had stumbled in his darkest hours. He owed Evan the same love that had healed him. He flicked the curtains shut and hooked his foot around the leg of a chair, bringing it to the bedside so he could sit with Evan. He raised his hand to his lips. The fingers were cool, and the bones felt fragile without the tensile strength Cam knew so well. He sighed and bowed his head. 

“Are you just going to sit there and mope, or are you gonna get over here and kiss me?”

Cam looked up. Evan was watching him, smiling weakly, but enough to bring out the dimples at the corners of his mouth – the dimples that had so charmed Cam the first time he'd met Evan way back when they both had a lot less mileage on them. “Hey,” he said. “Nice to see you, too.” He leaned forward and brushed his lips lightly across Lorne's. “Even if you look like hell.” He felt Evan's hand drift over his shoulder to the nape of his neck. He tugged Cam down. 

“What kind of bedside manner is that?” he whispered. 

“The kind that says you're not up to more than a chaste kiss.”

“Right.” There was a glint of Lorne's fierce determination in his tired blue eyes. “Kiss me.”

Cam did. It was sweet and hopeful, warm lips over Lorne's cool ones, a brief, gentle exploration that made Cam's heart stutter in his chest. When they parted, Cam smoothed the hair back from Evan's forehead. “Better?”

“Mmm.” It was more of a sigh than an agreement. The drugs made him reckless. “Love you,” he murmured. His eyes closed, but his mouth was still soft; the creases of pain had eased. Cam stayed at his side until Dr. Lam came in with a hypodermic and two orderlies. She injected the drug into the IV drip. “He'll sleep now,” she said. “We'll take him into surgery in a few minutes.”

“How long will it take?”

“I don't know. It depends on what we find. Dr. Anthony is one of the finest orthopedic surgeons in the United States. Major Lorne is in good hands.” She looked up at Cam, her eyes sympathetic. “He's a good friend to you.”

“Yeah.” He looked away. “Can I have another minute?”

The orderlies had moved Evan to the gurney and covered him with heated blankets. Cam waited until they had left before he kissed Evan again. “I'll be here when you wake up,” he said. Unspoken, he thought, If there is strength in love, then you're the strongest man I know.

^*^*^*^*^*^*  
Cam sat in the hard waiting room chairs, his temples throbbing with a relentless headache fueled by lack of sleep and no food. The surgery is taking hours. It shouldn't take this long. It's a reduction of a fracture, not a heart transplant. His imagination conjures up dark scenarios, which don't help his headache. He wants this day to be _over_ ... 

Finally, the doors to the operating suite opened. Dr. Lam looked tired, but calm. "It's over, Colonel Mitchell. He did very well and he's in recovery now. You should get some rest."

"When can I see him?"

She sighed. "He'll be out for at least another hour, and then he'll be monitored for another two. That means you have three hours to get some rest."

"You'll let me know?"

"I'll tell the recovery room nurses. Now go, before I sick my father on you." She tries to look severe. 

Can threw his hands up in surrender. "I'll go. On my way ..." He stood up, swaying with exhaustion. 

"Go. Now."

"Yes, ma'am." He went to his quarters, turned off the light and fell face down on his bed. His dreams were restless, anxious. He woke suddenly, his heart pounding and his face damp with sweat. He doesn't remember his dreams, which was probably a mercy he should be grateful for, but he was unsettled by them. He had slept for two hours. Three was out of the question. He took a cool shower dressed in clean fatigues and headed back to the infirmary. 

The first person he met was Dr. Lam. She didn't look as if she had taken her own advice. Her usually smooth hair was escaping its pins and she looked sallow and tired in the fluorescent light. "I thought you were going to sleep," she said.  
"I thought we both were," Cam replied. "Is there a problem or are you just being overprotective?"

She smiled faintly. "He's being moved out of recovery. He's awake, but very groggy, so don't stay too long."

"I won't. And, Doc, thanks for taking such good care for him." 

"My father wouldn't have me do less for one of his 'boys'." She gave his arm a light squeeze. "Now I am going to go to bed." She looked at her watch with a rueful glance. "I can grab three whole hours of sleep before I have to be on duty again."

"I hope your three hours are better than mine," Cam managed a smile. "Thank you. Seriously. For him."

She pointed to the row of cubicles. "Go, before he falls back to sleep."

Cam went. He opened the curtain and looked in. Evan was sitting propped up by pillows, his leg hanging from a complicated traction device. It looked painful. His eyes brightened, however, when he saw Cam. "Hey!" His voice was raspy from the anesthetic, but he was smiling. At least until he took a good look at Cam. "You look terrible."

"Thank you, and you look ... alive." Cam breathed out the last word. "God, Evan, I thought I was going to lose you ..."

Lorne tilted his head. "From a broken leg?"

"And everything that came before and after. Don't _ever_ do that to me again."

Evan laughed. "I shall endeavor not to, trust me. It hasn't been a circus of fun for me either." He held out his hand. "You gonna let me lie here and suffer all by myself?"

"Ev ..." Cam cast a look around. Aside from the soft beeping of the monitoring equipment the infirmary was quiet. The doctor on duty was snoozing in his chair; clearly none of his patients were in dire straits. The two night nurses had finished their rounds and were chatting over cups of coffee. Cam's shoulders relaxed and he hitched a hip on Evan's bed, careful not to jostle him. He slid an arm around his shoulders. "Better?" he murmured against Evan's soft hair.

"Yeah." He yawned. "It's not you, Cam ... but I kind of think I'm going to go back to sleep, okay?"

"Sure thing."

"You'll stay?"

"I'll stay." Evan's head tipped back against Cam's shoulder and his body relaxed. Cam waited until the monitors slowed and settled into a quiet rhythm. Cam bolstered Evan's body with an extra pillow. He ached to stay, but knew he couldn't, not with so many eyes on Evan. 

^*^*^*^*^*^*^  
Two weeks later, Evan is released from the hospital. He has crutches, but he's supposed to stay off his leg as much as possible. Fortunately, Cam had the foresight to buy a condo that is handicapped accessible, so along with the crutches comes a wheelchair, which he hates. He seethes while Cam wheels him up the walk and when they're inside he asks Cam for the crutches.

"I don't think so, flyboy. You're going to park your butt on the sofa, put that leg up and let me wait on you hand and foot."

"That would be great if my leg wasn't wrapped in plaster to my hip."

Cam sits beside him and wraps his hand around Evan's. He raises his knuckles to his lips. "Babe, I know this is hard, I've been there ... remember? And you came back and took care of me. So let me do the same."

Evan sighs and nestles against Cam's side. "You were pretty cranky," he observes. "I remember that."

"So, you get to be cranky back at me, and I'll do this ..." He kisses Evan's forehead. "And this ..." His lips follow the plane of Evan's cheek. "And when you're really cranky ... This." They kiss and Evan sinks further into Cam's embrace. 

"I'm sure I can be cranky a lot."

"We'll work on that."

Cam is endlessly patient with Evan, putting up with his frustration, the days when his cast is unbearably itchy, and times when Evan's mouth is tight with pain. Thanks to some advanced medical tech, in another month he's out of the cast. There is a deep, ugly scar running the length of his thigh, marking where they had to cut away the infection. 

Cam finds him sitting on the bed, looking down at his leg; the muscles are atrophied and the scar is dismaying. Cam remembers what it was like to deal with his weak body, his shattered legs and hip. His heart aches. "It gets better," he says. He sits next to Evan and lays a warm palm on his leg. "The therapy will build up the muscles, and the scar is just another scar. It doesn't matter to me, Ev. To me, you're always beautiful."

Evan draws in a shaky breath. "Logically, I know that. But when I look at it, I see nothing but how weak I am."

"You had a fuckin' building collapse around you, and you lived. There's nothing weak about that. You're a hero, it's in your blood."

"Not a hero, just damn lucky, I guess."

"I'm lucky," Cam lays his arm around Evan's shoulders. "My grandma was stubborn and sometimes narrow-minded, but I remember her telling my dad, when he came back from 'Nam, that it didn't matter how damaged he was because the Lord would help him be stronger where he was broken."

"And if I'm not?"

"I'll still be here. I'm not a walkin' away kind of guy."

"I kind of guessed that." They kiss deeply, tasting and exploring, rediscovering passion. Evan breaks away, flushed. "Give me a week."

"I can do that, too." He pulls Evan down gently and they lie close watching the sun set through the windows. They have their lives beyond the stars, but they also have this world that is in their arms. 

**The End**


End file.
